


Music Is in the Ear of the Beholder

by misura



Category: Clash of the Titans (2010)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I think I have a natural talent," Ixas says earnestly. Too earnestly.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Possibly," Draco allows. "If not, I would assume, for playing the flute."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music Is in the Ear of the Beholder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



> prompt: _Draco/Ixas, flute_

Ixas takes to music the way a moth takes to a flame - there's an extremely strong attraction, but only a fool would believe the consequences of that attraction could be anything less than disastrous.

Of course, in the case of Ixas and music, there are unlikely to be any fatalities.

At least, Draco intends to see to it that there won't be any. He's fairly confident none of his men will murder a man for being tone deaf and yet insisting on playing the flute - and extremely confident that if any of them were to try (possibly while drunk), Ixas will be able to handle himself.

"Why _does_ he insist on torturing us all with that noise?" Solon complains - not too loudly, but loud enough for Ixas to hear him. It's not Solon's style to talk about a man behind his back.

"Practice?" Draco suggests blandly.

There are a few guffaws, a handful of chuckles. The topic of Ixas and music has grown a beard by now; it's no longer new and fresh and a teasing matter, something that will pass. It's a fact of life.

"Someone should talk to the merchants," Solon says, and Draco sits a little bit straighter, because this? This is new. New is, generally speaking, not good.

"I would prefer not to force any of my men to become a thief," he says, softly enough for Ixas not to hear. It is, after all, possible that Solon's suggestion might work.

Solon looks thoughtful, considering the unasked question.

_Is it really that bad?_

Draco is the captain; he'll do whatever he has to do for the good of the guard as a whole.

"Idle hands make for hot tempers," Solon finally says. "This is well known."

"Too much wine makes for hot tempers," Draco says. "Unless, of course, you're suggesting I should work you men harder. I'm sure I could find something for you to do, if you're that bored."

"I'm sure you could." Solon smiles. "Although at my age, I'm really not that flexible anymore. Nor do I particularly desire to learn how to play an instrument."

"You're lucky I've seen you at practice this morning," Draco says. 'At my age,' indeed.

"Oh, so you _were_ paying attention." Solon grins. "I had some doubts. Not that I blame you in the slightest, of course. I'm sure _he's_ very flexible."

"I have no idea who you are talking about."

"Really?" Solon's eyes gleam. "I'd heard of men's brains being sucked out through a certain part of their body, but I'd have thought - "

Draco lifts a single finger. Not the one he'd like to - given the circumstances, Solon would likely as not find more to say about that. "Enough, Solon."

Solon is a wise man. "If he's doing it for your sake, you might get him to lay off. If he truly fancies himself a musician, you might do us all a favor by teaching him."

"What makes you think I know anything about playing the flute?"

"Why, Captain. Surely you've heard. You lead the Royal Guard. You can do anything."

"You flatter me," Draco says.

"I'm just repeating what I've heard other people say. There's no flattery in that," Solon says comfortably.

 

Ixas is, indeed, flexible. As a warrior should be, if he is to survive in battle.

And, yes, as a lover might be, when a sleeping roll is a luxury rather than a guarantee. In truth, Argos is a fairly peaceful city these days. Draco still execises his men outside the walls, naturally - it's his job to make sure they are ready for anything that may be asked of them, after all.

A concert is, Draco muses, rather unlikely to be among those things.

Ixas's hands are sure on the instrument - loving, too. Tender. It's a simple instrument, doomed to an early death for no greater sin than having had the misfortune to find itself in possession of Ixas.

"You might find yourself a teacher." The flute is not an instrument deemed worthy of the Princess Andromeda - and with her mother the Queen, it's doubtful Ixas would have been allowed to share her teacher anyway. Still, it's a big city. There's bound to be someone out there.

Ixas lowers the flute. His lips remain parted for a brief moment, just long enough for Draco to think of something quite inappropriate. (Solon is watching, after all.)

"I think I have a natural talent," Ixas says earnestly. Too earnestly.

"Possibly," Draco allows. "If not, I would assume, for playing the flute."

Ixas grins. "It never hurts to practice."

"You may find not everyone might agree with you on that one." Although Draco has his doubts about the claims of headaches and earaches from men he has trained to withstand any mortal foe. It's only a bit of music, after all. A simple flute.

"Solon just wouldn't be happy without something to complain about, and we both know it."

Draco glances back to find the man in question no longer there. A true soul of discretion. "Maybe so."

"You're non-committal this evening." Ixas seems amused.

Draco supposes he might as well play along. "Perhaps I am."

"When I put this flute to my lips, do you know what I think of?" Ixas asks, not waiting for another non-committal reply. "You. You never smile and you never give anyone a break, but I guess that's what makes you so impossible to resist."

Draco wonders what he's done lately to be blessed with such a reputation. Able to do anything _and_ impossible to resist.

Coming from Ixas, naturally, the second part is a good deal more welcome to his ears. Almost music.

"You seem to be doing well enough."

"Appearances," Ixas says. "Just say the word and I'm all yours. Flute? What flute?"

"I thought you said it reminded you of me. Am I that easily forgotten?"

"A shadow of a shadow," Ixas says, but Draco notices he takes the time to put the instrument away carefully. "Shall I show you what I have practiced?"

"Yes," Draco says.

 

" _Definitely_ a natural talent."

"And yet it never hurts to practice?"

"Well, I never said _you_ were a natural talent. So in your case - "

(A pity, Draco reflects, that his one sure-fire method of getting Ixas to be quiet is one he can't possibly use in public - or pass on to anyone else for their convenience and soundness of hearing.)


End file.
